Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
by RememberME2199
Summary: "Come 'ere princess." He pulled Claude's face closer to his, and kissed him on his swollen lip. Claude sighed and pushed him away, "I don't need your sympathy." Sebastian chuckled and walked to the freezer to grab an ice pack,"of course, you're a big boy after all." Claude rolled his eyes, "Shut the hell up and gimme my ice." (Claude/Sebastian) (NO uke/seme, equal relationship)
1. Chapter 1

'He's a princess,' Sebastian thought acidly while he watched the violet hair male dance provocatively through the mini flat screen television. Sebastian slammed the skillet into the sink water with a little bit more force than needed. He wiped his hands on his apron and reached for the small remote to turn off the kitchen flat screen. Sebastian gently placed the breakfast onto the white plate, and filled the clear glass with freshly squeezed orange juice.

He is a part time private chef. Employed by the famous Ciel Phantomhive a year ago. The young man is an entrepreneur in the toy and clothing business. And he is very successful at the surprising age of 20. Needless to say he isn't too far from Sebastian's age of 25.

Sebastian smirked to himself as he successfully finished another lovely plate. Ciel's breakfast for this morning consists of a peach and strawberry parfait, with a drizzle of honey on top; crispy applewood, smoked bacon; two slices of cinnamon toast; eggs sunny side up, and sprinkled with a hint of pepper; and a freshly baked croissant. The aroma wafted up to Sebastian's nostrils, and he exhaled a sigh of content with what he prepared today.

He carried the plate and orange juice to the dining room and set the table accordingly. After, Sebastian sauntered to the enormous living area and opened some more windows. The mansion Ciel lives in is lovely. It was situated in the Hollywood Hills. The floors are polished, amber wood and the color schemes were whites, blues, and silvers. The mansion also included an Olympic sized swimming pool and an indoor shooting range. Sebastian observed the view of the Los Angeles sky line from one of the huge windows. He followed the cars that flowed through the heavy, mid-morning traffic on the freeway.

Sebastian was pulled from his thoughts when Ciel called him. Sebastian turned to acknowledge him.

Ciel had just awoken. His navy blue hair was haphazardly sticking up in all directions; he had just recently got a haircut, so it was shorter on the sides and in the back, and longer in the middle.

The young man rubbed his eyes and his bare chest, his pajama pants were slipping a little off his hip. Ciel yawned, "What's for breakfast?"

Sebastian walked towards him to pull his chair out for him. Ciel thanked him and chewed a piece of the bacon.

"Your favorite, I made sure to sprinkle your eggs with pepper this time."

"Yeah. It was missing that last time, thanks." Ciel grabbed the kitchen tv remote and turned the flat screen on. It was still on the same channel, apparently a Claude Faustus takeover was showing on MTV. Sebastian rolled his eyes and tried his hardest to ignore the music by washing the dishes.

"What's the matter Sebastian? You don't like his music? I think he is an excellent singer."

"His singing isn't the problem, it's the lyrics and the way he carries himself. He is nothing but a drama queen, he seems to get what he wants, sleeps around endlessly with women! Does nothing but party and flair around like an aimless drunk! Treats people with disrespect! And is most likely one of the causes of the downfall of this entire generation!"

Ciel whistled, "Well you could've just said you don't favor him. You rant too much."

"My apologies. Hopefully I can ignore his awful music long enough to finish my task."

"Well," Ciel popped a piece of toast into his mouth, and turned the tv up purposely, "don't let me stop you."

/

Sebastian dried his wet hair and wrapped a towel around his waist. He wiped the foggy bathroom mirror and shook his hair of any excess water. It was well into the day now, about 10 a.m, and he had another job to attend to. Besides being a private chef, he also worked at the modern 5 star restauraunt, COOKie in Beverly Hills. He is the sous chef, and is trying to work his way up to the executive title.

Sebastian smiled at the thought of running COOKie, his boss was wearing well into her years, and he wants to make a good impression on her. He tossed those thoughts aside as he lotioned and deodorized himself, and pulled his uniform on. It is completely black including the apron. Once finished he grabbed his backpack and keys. One plus of being Ciel's private chef was being able to live in the the gorgeous pool house out back.

On his way out the door he ran into Mey-Rin, Ciel's (horrible) housekeeper.

"Oh! Off to your job Sebastian?"

He nodded and faked a smile as he opened the door to his black BMW and hopped inside. He was fond of her, but she tested his nerves with her endless rambling; so, he tried to avoid as much conversation as possible. He threw his dark shades on and quickly waved to her as he drove off.

/

"C'mon! Breakfast rush! I need those pancakes on the double! You got that?" Sebastian flipped the caramelized apple slices a few times in the hot skillet. Breakfast rush was his least favorite part of the day, but he could hardly complain. The atmosphere was busy and hot, as it always is, and Sebastian thrived off it. He felt at home. The apples were done, and he checked to make sure his pancakes were golden on each side before setting them on five plates, including the apples. He drizzled each plate abundantly with syrup, and placed them on the rack to be taken to the customers. He grimaced as Bard rushed over to take the plates.

"Oi. Such a rush today. Aye, it doesn't get harder than this, right Sebastian?"

"Tell me about it," his words dripped sarcasm.

"Oh right. Ms. Downey wants to see ya'."

Sebastian nodded and cleaned his hands on a moist towel. He shuffled through the busy kitchen to her office.

He poked his head inside and walked in when she permitted him to. Her office was small and reminded him of the beach, pictures of her visits to the Santa Monica pier and Venice decorated her walls. Ms. Downey is a black woman with long, graying, black dreadlocks; thick rimmed glasses; and is no taller than five-five, she just turned 48 last year.

She sat at her desk, paper work in hand. Sebastian sat in one of the chairs and waited for her to talk. She pulled her glasses off her face and beamed, "Sebastian?"

Sebastian genuinely smiled, "Ms. Downey."

She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes with a funny smirk on her round face, "how's life treating you hon?"

Sebastian cocked his brow, he had no idea where this conversation was headed, "well. And you? How is your husband."

"Still sick, still weak. But he is hanging in there. I have faith, and he hasn't left me yet."

"That's nice..."

"Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about tonight's menu. It will be one of our biggest events of the year. Besides Katy Perry visiting last month. It seems that a new celebrity has booked for the dinner time."

Sebastian leaned in closer, "and whom might it be?"

Ms. Downey placed her glasses back on her face and squinted at her papers, "what's that boy's name again? Oh right, Claude Faustus."

Sebastian's frowned and his eye twitched in irritation, "I see."

Ms. Downey smirked, "No need to get all butt hurt dear. It's just for one night. It will be great publicity as well, we are sure to drive in a crowd."

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the seat, "More or less than Johnny Depp or Robert Downey Jr.?"

She snorted, "Please. Less probably, but he is gaining popularity."

"Sadly. Horribly. Stupidly."

"I know you don't like this boy, but you won't even have to talk to him. Just don't spit in his food.."

Sebastian smiled, "I promise."

She slammed her fist on the desk in triumph, "Great! Now, let's get started on this menu!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Three million."

The sound of clinking glasses filled the air. Claude Faustus lounged with his legs up on the arm of a black, leather chair. He downed his drink in small sips, rather than his manager, Mr. Carter, who gulped it down in ten seconds flat. They sat in his penthouse of an office at the top of Bang! Records. His office was bathed in the bright glow of noon; the red, black, silver, and white color scheme looked lively in the sunlight. There was even an amazing view of the streets and buildings of Hollywood to the right of the office.

"Three million albums sold in the last month. This is a new record Claude." Carter stood and circled around the desk to sit on the front of it.

Carter was well into his late thirties; his hair was short and dark brown; his skin was fair and his eyes are brown too; he had wide shoulders and stood at six feet.

Claude looked at him and drew a long sip from his bubbly drink.

"I know," he mumbled, "I knew I made the right choice of recording that bonus track."

Carter chuckled lightly, "Of course. But, we have to do better than that." Claude arched his brow, "Better than three million?-"

"Claude if you want to succeed, you need to be the best and do the best. I'm your manager, so I know what's best for you. So, next time, let's try for four mil, okay?"

Claude began to object before Carter wagged a finger at him, "no buts. Now, let's go over your schedule for today."

Claude mumbled under his breath and sunk lower into the seat. Carter walked back over to his desk and scrolled on the computer. "Okay. Looks like you have a recording session from 1 to 2:30; a magazine interview at 3:20 to 4; a photo shoot from 5 to 6:45; choreography at 7:15 to 8:45. And, oh! I see you've managed to find time to fit dinner in at 9 at COOKie."

Claude set his glass down and shifted in his seat, "Duh. You work me like a slave. I deserve a break."

Carter glanced up from his computer for a moment, "watch your tone Claude."

Claude only rolled his eyes and looked out the window. He hated tight schedules.

/KISS. KISS\

The recording session was good. The interview drew so many fake smiles from him. The photo shoot was irritating, but the models made up for that. And, the choreography was the best, but exhausted him.

Claude plopped face down on his enormous bed, and groaned until he had no more breath. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the high ceiling. "I don't believe it," he dragged his hands down his face, "I have everything I want, and yet I'm still utterly bored..and talking to myself..again." The faint sound of cars could be heard from outside his window. Light provided by the many buildings of Los Angeles lit his dark room. Claude lived in the penthouse of one of the best condos in Beverly Hills. His penthouse was decorated in blacks, golds, and purples; it is very open and comfortable. However, to Claude, it felt too expensive. He really isn't the guy for fur rugs and leather sofas, he just was either to lazy or too busy to do anything about it.

His phone went off. A snippet verse from Adam Lambert's _For Your Entertainment_ played repeatedly. Claude allowed it to ring longer than it needed to. After all, Adam Lambert is Claude's musical inspiration, and his non-guilty man crush. He finally decided to answer it during its third ring.

"Claude." It was Carter.

"Yes?"

"I decided to accompany you on your dinner tonight."

He sat up and whined, "what! Why?"

"Why not? I've been pondering a bit, and came to the conclusion that we aren't as friendly with each other as we should be. I've know and worked with you for almost two years now, and I would desire if our relationship with each other became more friendly. Wouldn't you agree?"

_'No. In fact, it sounds rather unpleasant, I would hate to become friends with you.'_

"Sure?"

"Excellent! Well I'll be at your place in fifteen minutes, look nice."

He hung up. Claude tossed his phone carelessly onto the hard wood floor. He buried his face into a pillow, and growled in irritation.

_'I wonder how long the drop is from my penthouse window to the pavement..This is going to be a long night..'_

What a freaking drama queen, wouldn't you agree?

/BANG. BANG\

[A/N: This chapter was rather short, look forward to the next update readers.]


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